Chapter 13 - The Breach
The explosion was deafening. The heavy oak front door of the safehouse splintered into a thousand jagged projectiles, blasted inward by a military-grade breaching charge. A thick cloud of gray smoke and pulverized wood instantly filled the small cabin, suffocating the light.
Daniel threw his body over Valeria, shielding her pregnant belly with his own back as debris rained down on them. His ears rang with a high-pitched whine, but his survival instincts overrode the shock.
Through the swirling smoke, the red laser sights of three suppressed assault rifles cut through the darkness like deadly spiderwebs. The Vanguard operatives moved with terrifying precision, stepping over the ruined doorway in synchronized formation, their night-vision goggles glowing an eerie green.
"Target is in the main room," a cold, robotic voice announced through a tactical radio. "Acquire the matrix. Terminate the male."
Daniel didn't wait for them to aim. He rolled off Valeria, bringing the heavy Glock pistol up with his uninjured right hand. He didn't have a laser sight. He didn't have night vision. But he knew the layout of this cabin perfectly.
He fired three rapid shots into the smoke.
The heavy .45 caliber hollow-point rounds found their marks. The lead operative grunted, a spray of dark blood misting the air as two bullets pierced the weak points in his Kevlar vest. He collapsed backward into the snow on the porch.
The remaining two operatives immediately returned fire. The cabin erupted in chaos as a hail of suppressed bullets chewed through the wooden walls, shattering the dining table and sending the laptop exploding into a shower of sparks and plastic.
"Crawl to the kitchen!" Daniel roared over the gunfire, laying down covering fire to keep the operatives pinned near the doorway.
Valeria didn't hesitate. Driven by a primal need to protect her unborn child, she scrambled across the floor on her hands and knees, keeping her head down as bullets whizzed inches above her.
Daniel followed her, his dislocated left shoulder screaming in agony as he dragged himself behind the thick granite countertop of the kitchen island.
"Reloading!" Daniel gritted his teeth, ejecting the empty magazine and slamming a fresh one home with one hand against his knee.
"They're going to flank us," Valeria whispered, her eyes wide with terror as she heard the heavy boots crunching on the broken glass, moving slowly around the living room to get a clear angle on the kitchen.
"No, they're not," Daniel said, his eyes scanning the floorboards.
He reached under a small rug near the pantry and gripped a recessed iron ring. With a grunt of effort, he pulled it upward. A heavy square of flooring lifted, revealing a dark, narrow dirt tunnel beneath the cabin. It was an old Prohibition-era smuggling hatch he had discovered years ago.
"Get in," Daniel commanded.
"What about you?"
"I'm right behind you. Go!"
Valeria slid into the dark hole, her feet touching the damp earth below. Just as her head cleared the floorboards, one of the operatives rounded the kitchen counter, raising his rifle.
Daniel fired blindly around the edge of the granite, hitting the operative in the thigh. The man stumbled, his burst of gunfire hitting the ceiling.
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Using the momentary distraction, Daniel threw himself into the hole, pulling the heavy wooden trapdoor shut just as a grenade rolled across the kitchen floor.
He latched the iron lock from underneath just as the grenade detonated above. The shockwave rattled the dirt walls of the tunnel, raining soil down on them. The safehouse was gone, but they were underground, swallowed by the darkness.
